


Sailor's Poem

by bellaliemy



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Historical, Enemies to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pirates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2018-12-23 01:51:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11979588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaliemy/pseuds/bellaliemy
Summary: Muse Pirate AU, inspired by Absolution, or should I say Yarghsolution?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Meet James Howard, the newest captain of the Royal Navy. His first assignment? Catching the infamous Black Bellamy  
> P.S. as always, ask to tag if needed

The salty smell of the ocean swirled around the ship, filling her sails with the wind of promise and hope. A Union Jack flew high on her mast, and whipped proudly as the ship sailed smoothly ahead. A man stood confidently at her wheel, navigating with calm pride. His deep red coat gave away his status of captain, yet it was too new and unworn for him to have been long in charge. This man was James Howard, the newest captain of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. It was the first chance he had to prove himself to his Queen and Country as he had pledged. For this was the man’s first mission to hunt down traitorous pirates and make his country proud.

A smile formed on his face. Already, he could imagine his father’s pride at his only son finally taking charge as a captain. 

“Glad to see you out here, James,” a familiar voice captured his attention. James turned around to see his old friend, Thomas Kirk. For years, Thomas and he were close friends, until James was whisked away to navigation school.

“Thomas! It’s great to see you after so long!” He embraced his childhood friend momentarily before pulling back.

“How has life treated you, my friend?”

“Well, James, it’s been tough without my ol’ friend by my side,” he proceeded to nudge the captain with his elbow. “After my father disappeared, my brother inherited the family printing press.”   
_ Ah, yes, James remembered it. Gregory Kirk had been on the royal ship that Bellamy had made his first target. The pirate had left no trace of the ship, only sending the captain’s head to the Queen herself with his now famous branding of a single X on the forehead.  _

“Anyhow, I’ve left my brother to run the family business on his own.”

“What about yourself?”   
“Me? I’m going to be the writer who documents Bellamy’s death!” Thomas announced with a confident smirk. “And,” he slapped his friend’s back, “you’re gonna be the one to catch him. I just  _ know _ it.”

Well, James couldn’t argue with that. After all, that was the plan, wasn’t it?

“Alright, Thomas, let me treat you to a proper meal and you can tell me about your latest shenanigans!” James invited with a grin. “Surely you’re still just as mischievous as I remember, no?”

Leaving his first mate, Morgan, in charge, he slung his arm around Tom’s shoulder and lead him from the upper deck to the captain’s quarters -  _ his  _ quarters. He still wasn’t quite adjusted to being a captain, the idea still seemed like a dream. He couldn’t count the number of times his father had reminded him of … well, nevermind. He didn't need to think of that now. 

His quarters were still relatively unlived in, his traveling chests were still unpacked and there were no personal decorations to be found, except a single framed portrait of a woman. She gave off a threatening aura, as if she was likely to burst from the frame and strangle those who dared look her way. However, those who entered the room couldn't help but encounter the painting: it took up an entire wall.

Thomas pointed to her scowling expression. “Who’s this? Have you met someone and not told me?”

James chuckled. “That’s my wife, Georgia.”

“She seems intense, mate.”

“Yeah,” James paused to rub his face at the thought of her. “She’s a bit much sometimes, but I love her, she’s great once you get to know her,” he lied. She was a nightmare to live with, and they certainly hadn’t married for love. James saw their arranged marriage as a solution to several problems. Firstly, it made his father happy, and that was always imperative in any decision James made. Secondly, it made him seem more respectable, more manly. At only twenty years old, he was quite young for a naval captain. Lastly, yet most importantly, it-

 

“Well,” Thomas announced, drawing James’ attention back to the present, “I sure am glad to be single.”

 

They enjoyed a hearty meal, with pheasant and pleasantries as they recounted stories from their shared youth. It made James happy to talk with a real friend, instead of somebody using him for personal gains. He was happy that evening, as they drank themselves silly from his private rum supply. Too long had passed since James had last had fun. 

Eventually Thomas withdrew to his own cabin, leaving James to his own introspection. He thought of that damn pirate he was hunting. 

Legends followed Bellamy everywhere. Every tavern and alleyway had a poster declaring a bounty on his head, dead or alive. James wasn’t the first to go looking for the man, in fact, the last captain had never returned once he is encountered the pirate. Honorable death, it had been ruled, but it didn’t feel honorable to him.  _ To be so close to ridding the world of the treacherous Bellamy, and to fail?  _ Failure was a concept foreign to James. He had always been the smartest, the best, and he always excelled in combat training despite not being naturally strong. It was no wonder when he graduated top of his class from navigation school. As the son of Her Majesty’s most famed captain, he didn’t have much room for failure otherwise. His father’s affection was always based on his achievements. Not that James minded, however. It made him a stronger man, that’s what his father said. And that’s what he told himself when he bid goodbye to his wife Margaret. He could still hear his father’s voice in his head from his earliest memory. 

_ He had been sleeping with his late mother's doll when his father had come home from sea. Alcohol reeked from him as he stumbled into James’ room. James laid there, pretending to sleep, hoping this scary version of his father would disappear. He felt the drunk captain looming over him for a heartbeat before snatching his doll away. The sheer aggression in it scared him further, and he forgot he was supposedly sleeping as he began bawling.  _

_ “Stop crying, son, that makes a man weak. I’ll not tolerate my only son becoming soft. Only strong boys become strong, successful men!”  _

He never again let himself cry, for he only wanted to be the best, to change the world.


	2. Chapter 2

James woke up sweaty and hungover. He felt dried tears on his cheeks and a dull thumping behind his forehead. It had been a while since he woke up feeling quite this bad, not that waking up in a sweat was abnormal for James. That was one thing he would never adjust to, however. Sometimes, the pure fear he felt waking up overwhelmed him, making him retch. Anxiety ruled his unconscious before he could wake to shake the feeling. He rolled out of bed over towards his wash basin and splashed his face with some water to bring himself to the present. Remnants of his dreams still played out in his head. Images of burning bodies tied to stakes, the horrible screams, and the absolute stench of melting flesh haunted him, almost as foreshadowing his future... 

James had nothing to hide, officially. He was the perfect son, and he would continue to be just that, no matter what, or else. And that was that.

He dressed quickly, eager to find some food. His room was messier than he liked; he was an unnaturally clean man compared to others, but he had been too absorbed by his own introspection last night. A quick clean left his room practically unlived in, just as he preferred. Rooms were a gateway into one’s mind. Messy room, messy mind. A clean room left no trace.

He couldn’t let his crew down.

Pulling on his trousers, he looked out a porthole. The sea was unnaturally calm.  _ Smooth Sailing _ . He thought to himself. So soon into his time as a captain, and he already needed a break. He hadn’t even had a full day, yet he felt the severity of his responsibilities. Getting drunk with Tom had been a mistake, as he had too many duties piling up. He was more than sure his lousy crew would take any chance to slack off. Even Morgan, who seemed hardworking enough, didn’t quite have the authority to whip them into shape. Hell, James had a hard enough time getting them set straight, but it was his first crew so he couldn’t complain.

Speaking of his crew, they seemed unusually quiet as well. It was past daybreak, yet the sounds of a productive ship were absent. He was going to have to kick their asses into gear. What kind of captain was he if his crew didn’t respect him? He swung the door open. Ready to scold the lazy asses.

Immediately he was shrouded in dark as a bag was pulled over his head. For a half second, he tried to yell.

Then he was knocked unconscious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ Not much gold on the ship, captain.  _

_ This is the Whydah. Are you telling me that the Whydah of all ships doesn’t have much gold?! Check again.  _

_ But we already checked twice! _

_ Did you check all the quarters? _

_ I’ll check again. _

_ Come back here. What is that in your pockets? _

_ No-nothing. _

_ Is that perhaps the missing gold?  _

_ No! It’s not what you thi- AGH! _

_ A loud squelch, a plop. _

_ No one. Steals gold from me. Understood? _

_ A round of ayes filled the tense air.  _

 

James fell unconscious once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He slowly woke. There was a dull pounding in his head, made worse by his dry mouth. He felt as if he had swallowed sand. He forced his eyes open, only to wince in the little light that was shining on his face.

James didn’t know where he was. He could barely make out the dingey, dark room he would as in. There was a set of rusty bars in front of him.

_ Am I dead? Is this hell? _

He took a deep breath in. 

_ No, not dead.  _

The air was musty, yet he could still smell the salt of the sea. He had to figure out where he was.

He remembered waking up hungover, going to check on his crew, and then nothing. The pounding in his head became worse. 

James tried to rub his hand, only to find his arms were cuffed behind his back. His once bright coat was dusty and torn, and he was missing a shoe. In the corner, the red glint of a rat’s eyes unsettled him even more. It stared at him mockingly. James was jealous of its freedom. Maybe if it came close enough, he could catch it with his feet for a meal. His mouth watered at the idea of food. 

The door opened, letting bright light flood into the dank room and setting off a spike of pain behind James’ eyes. The silhouette of a man stood before him, like God standing to judge him for his sins. 

The rat scurried off quickly. 

James froze in shock, caught between flinging himself to the ground for mercy or trying to fight. 

The figure slowly stepped out of the door. He could distinguish the man was indeed not the Lord himself, but rather a young, slender man with a sharp face framed by greasy shoulder length hair. 

“And you are the famous James Howard?”

The croak that emerged from his mouth was truly pathetic. 

“Ah, well, allow me to introduce myself. I’m not a complete savage, contrary to belief. You may know me as the legendary Matthew Bellamy.

“B-Bellamy?”

“The one and infamous.” The pirate began to pick at his nails disinterestedly.

James couldn’t help the slight whimper he let out. The things he’d heard that this man could do. The things he did to people like  _ him. _

Bellamy looked up from his nails to smirk evilly at the captain. Blue eyes pierced into James, and he felt like this man could see right through him. 

“And you, Sir Howard, are quite famous yourself. The son of William Howard, eh? I remember him. We have a word for men like him. A coward. A snivelling puppy.”   


James broke out of his frozen state, writhing about in his chains. “How dare you insult my father!”

The pirate’s smile widened. “There we go, there’s the spirit I expect from Captain Howard. You know, gossip had it that you were supposed to be the one to take me down, but look where we are now.” 

Bellamy was now in front of him, bending down to condescendingly stroke his cheek. 

“You’re too pretty to kill. For now.”

James nearly cried from relief, let alone the disgust he felt at himself for enjoying the man’s touch.

The pirate stood up and begun to pace about the room.

“So, I’ll offer you a deal: Join me, or you’ll be sent overboard. The sharks certainly had quite the meal of your crew.”

The captain’s heart dropped.  _ Was Tom already gone?  _ He had no time to grieve with the pirate in front of him, looking expectantly. 

“I’m waiting, James.”

He had to make a decision now. On the one hand, he could choose death and surely be sent to hell for his unholy interest in the same sex, or he could take his chance for revenge against the pirate who killed his crew. 

But he would become a disgrace to his country, to his father. The famous James Howard - that wouldn’t be him anymore.

The captain looked up determinedly. “My name is Dominic.” He flashed an resigned smile towards his new pirate captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is largely based off of the pirate Black Sam Bellamy. He's known for capturing the slave/cargo ship the Whydah (pronounced whi-duh) and repurposing it as his own. He's also known for being well spoken, loving the word damn, and acting as a pirate version of Robin Hood.  
> The imagery in Dom's dream is referring to the urban myth that the slur faggot originated from burning gay men at the stake.   
> I should also mention I have no clue if the attitudes about homosexuality in this fic are historically accurate, but let's just say Dom is really distressed about it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dominic meets the crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for non-con elements (kinda has a rapey vibe) and violence  
> this has like the Bare minimum amount of editing so beware of bad writing

“Brilliant!” Bellamy nearly shouted. “Dominic, welcome aboard my ship.” He gave a bright, sinister smile.

“And while you’re on my ship, you will follow my orders, capisce?”

Dominic nodded softly. 

Matthew's nostrils flared slightly. "Speak up!"

"Yes, sir!" Dominic felt sick to the stomach. Just yesterday he was the one in charge, the captain who everyone admired. Now he was stuck as a prisoner and traitor to everything he once held dear to his heart.

"Alrighty then! Glad we could come to an agreement. Now, I should probably free you from these chains, hm?"

"Yes, sir." Dominic didn't like the glint in Bellamy's eyes.

"Ah, but they look so pretty on you. I think it suits you." Matthew waltzed out of Dom's view. The captain felt his heart pumping in his chest.

Dominic flinched as he felt the pirate reach around to his lower back and braced himself against what he was sure would happen. But instead, the pirate deftly unlocked his bonds before delivering a kick to the captain's back. Dominic fell face forward, but his body was electric with relief and something else he didn't want to acknowledge.

"Get up, and follow me." By the time Dominic relearned how to use his legs from his prolonged bondage, Bellamy was out of sight. And so Dominic used his newfound freedom to rush out of his cell toward the click and sound of arrogance in the form of Bellamy's monologuing. 

"-and what a day it was when I found this beauty we're on now. The Whydah, she was called. Stole her from a group of slave traders, just as they stole their cargo from East Africa. What goes around comes around in the end, that's the way I like to think. I just speed up the process a bit from whatever God's got planned, the lazy fucker." Bellamy walked with a confident air, fast and determined towards what appeared to Dom to be some sort of living quarters. Dominic struggled to keep up mentally and physically as Matthew continued boasting about his expeditions while navigating the maze of a ship at breakneck speed.  _ So _ , Dominic thought to himself, _ I'm on a slave ship, that makes sense with the chains so readily available. And he just called the Lord a lazy fucker. Great, I am definitely going to hell with this man.  _

Dominic had never heard such open heresy before, even from the lowest of pirates he'd seen his father bring in from his days as a captain. 

Suddenly, Matthew stopped, and Dominic nearly fell over trying not to crash into him.

"Attention bastards!" Bellamy shouted, his bizarre grin only serving to frighten Dominic more. "This here is our newest member of the crew, Captain James Howard. Well, used to be a captain, he goes by Dominic now, isn’t that cute?" Dominic felt rows of angry eyes fall upon him like daggers. "Anyways, have fun breaking this one in! I've got a special meeting in my office.

And so the pirate captain had dropped off Dominic to fend for himself among an angry, all too eager for a fight looking crew.

A buff, bearded man stepped out from the mass of angry stares to confront the ex captain. Dom felt himself shrink into his soles, the taller, bigger, and all around tougher man before him setting off his fight or flight. If only Dom could figure out where the damn lifeboats were on this horrible ship, he could possibly make it to-

"So who do you think you are, coming on to our crew?" The man's voice fit his large stature, making Dom's blood even faster through his veins. "You're Howard's boy?"

Unconsciously he nodded in response. He was frozen with fear, but he could spot a wooden plank in his peripheral. Might come in handy.

"Hmf, didn't know his son was a bloody coward."

That's when Dom saw red. He wasn't a coward. He just had to figure his way off this damn ship. And there was a power ladder he had to climb to get there. 

He launched towards the wooden plank, grabbing it and pulling it back as a club to strike the man before him. His combatant swung out of the plank's path and watched Dominic fall over with the effort of his swing. Oh, Christ.

The first blow landed as a knee to Dominic's stomach, and he made the mistake of curling up on himself in pain, so that the man straddled him to the floor and punched his face. Blood streamed from a broken nose as the man wailed away three successive punches with both arms, throwing himself into each blow. Dominic was half conscious at this point, barely able to hear the crowd's cheers at his misery. Finally, the man let up on his blows and instead yanked his head up by his hair. Leaning in, he spat into the ex captain's face. 

"Round here, we earn our respect, and we fight like men. Get up." The large man pulled himself off of Dominic and stood up expectantly.

Wearily, Dominic struggled to his feet. Boos rung through the crowd as he found his balance and put his fists up again, ready for a round two. His face was dripping red and his blood ran into his dirty blond hair. 

The man chuckled. "As you wish, mate, it's your funeral."

The pirate made the first move, swinging for his face, but this time Dominic was prepared. He ducked left, and connected a solid uppercut. The pirate stumbled back a few steps, surprised that Dominic had some actual fighting skill in him. 

By the time the pirate had gone in for another swing, Dominic landed a punch to his gut, making the pirate double over. He pulled the man in with a swift knee to his head, and finished with an elbow to the back of his head. 

The room's boos had swapped to cheers of encouragement, excited for any sort of fight, even if it meant one of their own getting hurt.

The man stood back up, wobbling slightly from side to side. "Fucking finally, a proper fight!" He grinned as he lurched towards Dominic once again. 

This time, he tackled the blond, and knocked him hard against a barrel. Dominic felt the air rush out of his lungs, and struggled to breathe as the man threw punch after punch to his face, gut, chest, all over. He felt black creeping around his vision as he struggled to stay up. Then the man wrapped his arms around him, picked Dom up like a rag doll, and threw him to the ground one final time.

“That’s what you get when you mess with Wolstenholme” was the last thing Dominic could hear before he blacked out.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whipped this one out fast compared to the others, only took me a couple days


End file.
